I Want It Bad - Narry

Chapter Nineteen

Harry’s lips part, his tongue trying to form some sort of word but it feels so thick and heavy, like his throat – only a trembling, short gasp quietly comes out. He blinks like he’s in some sort of daze, his damp, doleful eyes looking up into Niall’s with a questioning gaze.

“Why?” he finally whispers, voice quavering.

“Harry, you and me both knew this was comin’,” Niall says dryly, running his fingers through his hair. “I was failin’, okay? Every single damn class, there was no way I was gonna graduate.”

“I-I, I could’ve helped—”

“No, Harry. You couldn’t help, and you can’t help. I was majoring in law and business, for fuck’s sake! And see this? Yeah, look at that. I’m fuckin’ nineteen and in debt.”

A paper is shoved into Harry’s hand, the printed words entailing the amount of money Niall owes in student loans, more than Harry makes in a year.

“Niall,” Harry whimpers pitifully, biting down on his lower lip to stop it from visibly trembling, “I love you.” And it’s all he can really think to say, a slither of hope deep within that it’d somehow convince Niall to stay. Niall walks over to him and cups his face; calloused thumb stroking over his cheekbone. “I love you too, but dammit Harry, I can’t do this. I havta get outta here, go to LA—”

“LA? Oh God, don’t tell me this about the music thing,” Harry says, rolling his eyes and wrapping his hands around Niall’s wrists.

“Harry, listen to me,” he growls, fist raising up into the air and the thought that he would ever actually hurt Harry had never crossed anyone’s mind, especially Harry’s, but he cowers away from Niall anyway. A loud thud echoes all around Harry and he gasps from the rumbling vibrations spreading across the wall behind him, eyes cracking open to see Niall’s hand pulling away from the crack he made in the plaster, knuckles busted and red.

“I got a call from this producer guy, wants me ta’ go see ‘im and maybe get a contract,” Niall pants, chest heaving rapidly.

“And you’d chase after your little music career instead of staying with me? You’d pack your things and just leave? What if I didn’t come back until tomorrow, huh? Would you have just been gone without telling me?”

“’Course not, don’t be ridiculous. I’d never do that!”

“What about us, Niall? You are such a fucking asshole,” Harry spats, his sister gasping at the vulgar words coming from her little brother, and if it weren’t for that gasp, Harry would forget that Gemma was still here.